


Notorious

by littlebluetui



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Agent Harry Styles, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Crimes & Criminals, Criminal Louis, Dom Louis, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Domestic Fluff, Drugs, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Smut, I Don't Even Know, Illegal Activities, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Police Officer Harry Styles, Prostitution, Protective Harry, Protective Louis, Smut, Stripper Louis, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Sub Harry, Subdrop, Subspace
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 06:57:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14183415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlebluetui/pseuds/littlebluetui
Summary: Louis was notorious in every sense of the word. People talked about him, avoided him and actively tried to track him down. His sass? Notorious. His smirk? Notorious.  His ass? Goddamn Notorious. And his job? That's took the cake in giving Louis his name. You see, job is a pretty loose term. Louis is.... well he's  a collector. A connoisseur, you might say. Of money. That's not his.Harry. Lead agent Harry Styles. He was as relentless as Louis was notorious. He never really stopped working. Proper sleep-with-a-gun-under-the-pillow and phone-always-on type agent. He was the agent assigned to catch Louis Tomlinson.





	1. Chapter 1

Louis was notorious in every sense of the word. People talked about him, cleared him and actively tried to track him down. His sass? Notorious. His smirk? Notorious.  His ass? Goddamn Notorious. And his job? That's took the cake in giving Louis his name. You see, job is a pretty loose term. Louis is.... well he's  a collector. A connoisseur, you might say. Of money. That's not his. 

Harry. Lead agent Harry Styles. He was as relentless as Louis was notorious. He never really stopped working. Proper sleep-with-a-gun-under-the-pillow and phone-always-on type agent. He was the agent assigned to catch Louis Tomlinson. He was also, just now, midway through his lunch break (same thing every day: pasta salad and a salad sandwich, no tomato) when he got the call that Tomlinson was again in the middle of a heist. 

As Harry sprints through the office, his team stumbling behind as they pull on their bullet proof vests, Louis is standing in the middle of a bank, leaning on the counter, humming to himself, gun in hand as a terrified, shaking and crying teller, stuffs the bag he's holding full of the money from the till. 

"Sirens are coming" one of Louis' partners, Zayn calls from the door, making the older man raise an eyebrow and look to the tellers on the other side of the counter, a mockingly disapproving look on his face.   
"Now which one of you broke our deal?" he coos, walking down the line, knowing one of them triggered the silent alarm. Really, he wasn't shocked. It happened every time. Hell, turn the tables and Louis would be pushing that button the second a bastard like him even looked sideways at the bank.   
"No one put out the alarm and no one gets hurt. I thought that was a fair bargin I was driving" he sighs sarcastically, shaking his head as he raises his gun.   
"Eenie, meanie, miney..." He mumbles in a sing-song tone as he walks along the front desk, point the pistol at each of the tellers as he does, deciding which one to shoot. He knew he wasn't actually going to shoot anyone. They didn't know that though and he liked to see them squirm.  
"Moe" he whispers with a smirk, getting back to the original teller and giving her a wink. All the small boned man does however is pick up the bag of money from the ghostly white woman's hand, only pausing to place a kiss to the back of it. "Pleasure doing business with you" he states, throwing the decently weighty bag over his shoulder before strolling after the two others as the walk towards the back of the store, where a get away truck would be waiting. 

Harry, on the other hand, had only just pulled up outside the bank. 3 minutes 16 seconds since the call had come to his phone. He thinks they really might have got him this time. Pulling his gun, ready to brief his team on their positions is interrupted however as the glass front doors of the bank fly open and several terrified ex-hostages (Louis thinks that's a harsh term) run out. Every step they take away from the back is one Harry takes towards it. At the top of the stairs, he stops in his tracks however as his eyes find the back door. It's in the process of slowly swinging closed, but there's enough time for Harry to catch the middle finger being pulled in his direction an the smirk of Louis Tomlinson before the door finally closes. 

Harry was vaguely aware of the shots that rang out as other agents also so Louis, and the shuffling of boots as the armed agents ran to the back of the building. Harry knew there wasn't much point. Every fucking time, they would just miss Louis and his team. They had only ever once actually got there in time to see the get away car. And even then the cocky bastards pressed their bare arses to the window as the stolen vehicle sped past the officers. Notorious. As Harry an his team went about the crime scene stuff, the whole job was the same as always. They came in, politely called for everyone's attention and joked around as they stole some three hundred thousand pounds. Not bad, but definitely the biggest heist the group had ever pulled off. 

After the paper work and the witness statements and the 4 extra cups of coffee, Harry was finally free to head off for the night. He didn't mind though. Not really anyone he had to go home to. Instead, the ever professional, Lead agent Harry Styles, found himself heading down town, to old mens strip club that no one really went to except the business men who couldn't have anyone else knowing their filthy habits. From the outside, it looked like a printer repair store. Once you walked around the counter though, knocked 4 times quick then two times slow, the back was a strip club of sorts. Small, quaint, notorious you could say, in the working gay men cirlces. Harry knew near everyone that came here. He'd heard about it from a friend about 8 months ago, and had shown up here on one particularly lonely night. Since, he's become a regualr. 

Taking a seat at the bar with a silent nod at the man, a big name banker,sitting next to him, Harry got his favourite beer slid in front of him without even a word of order. "Your boys in the normal room" the bar tender, Gavin, says as Harry opens the warm and probably flat beer. He wasn't really coming here for the drinks anyway. "Thanks" he mumbles, before pushing himself off the stool again and making his way to the room, handing a fiver to the girl dancing in the near empty room.

Knocking on the door, Harry hears the call from the other side before walking in and pulling it back closed behind him, locking it to make sure he wasn't going to be disrupted. Finishing the rest of his beer before turning, Harry's meet with the blue eyes, the sass and the smirk. It's notorious. 


	2. Chapter Two.

The first time Harry had come to the strip club, everything had just gone wrong. His job, or more accurately, his over the top dedication to it, made it pretty impossible for Harry to hold a relationship. He'd given up everything for that job. On top of that, the long days and the early mornings, late nights, made even a fuck buddy, scratch that, even a stranger to fuck, impossible. 

On that fateful day, he woke up late, rolled out of bed and stood on a shit that his dog had taken on the carpet next to his bed, since Harry had been too tired to take the English bulldog out last night. He lived in an apartment, only 6 minutes 40 seconds from work. He could run it in just over 2 minutes, if it came down to it. And it often did. 

After cleaning his foot, and the carpet, Harry was even later. He was always first at the office, but on the way there, everything got in his way. He just missed every crossing at the traffic lights, no cars would stop for him on the crossing until he literally just walked out, internally daring them see what happens if you hit a federal agent, and then he got stuck behind what appeared to be the morning walking group from the elderly people's home around the corner. They were so fucking slow. 

When Harry eventually got to work, he only just had hit the seat for about 6 seconds before his phone was ringing about a meeting he had forgotten to go to. From then, things just got worse for our agent. Everything that could go wrong, really did go wrong. Harry was actually relieved when he got the call to say Louis and his team had hot another bank. He knew this was something he could actually do right. Harry yelled as his team, gearing up as he made the 25 second run to his car, and going to the bank that's silent alarms had been triggered by 6 different workers. He thought that was pretty sloppy from Tomlinson, to let that many alarms be pushed, but he of all people knew that everyone had bad days. He pulled up outside, barking the same orders to everyone that pulled up behind him, and the police already there. Get teams around the back, find the get away car, establish how many hostages. The hostages weren't too much of a concern. In the 6 months Louis and his team had been hitting banks, only one hostage was ever killed. By all accounts, that's because he shot at the the thieves first. Witnesses at every scene so far always said the 3 thieves stated if everyone just stay quiet for the short time they would be there, no one was going to get hurt. It was always Louis talking, saying something along the line of "sorry for the inconvenience folks", "we'll be out of your hair in no time" or "we're going for a personal best, don't mess this one up for us." 

When Harry arrived at the bank ,he was rather surprised to see that Tomlinson and his crew were still actually there. This rarely happened. The boys almost always have already left, or are leaving as the agents arrive. Today though, Harry could see Tomlinson, and two others still in the bank, walking around without a care in the world. A dark haired boy, police believed to be ex-small time drug dealer and thief Zayn Malik, actually had the audacity to give a lazy wave to the feds out the window as he kept guard, with a cigarette hanging from two of his fingers. Zayn knew they wouldn't shoot him. Not with two of his mates also armed in here with hostages.

Just Harry's luck, agents in full tactical gear came running out, saying something about big alley walls blocking the back on the bank, and running a block over to get around. The lead agent already knew the weren't going to get them. 

Much to Harry's surprise, the front door of the bank had opened a little bit. From the thick glass of the door, Louis could be seen patiently waiting for a small girl to waddle along with him. Harry could tell he wasn't the only one in shock. Normally, Tomlinson would get any children under 12 or so out of the bank before they really got going. If there wasn't time, he'd, by witness accounts, tell them to close their eyes and count to 100, and some have even said, make sure the child never catches sight of the gun. It's one of the most intriguing aspects of Louis' work though. 

Today, Harry watched the most wanted thief in all the United Kingdom walk hand in hand with a small toddler, no more than three, to the front door of the bank. The small built criminal reaches up for the latch as Harry calls for his team to hold their fire. The glass door is slowly pushed open, and the small girl looks out, suddenly stopping in her tracks because there's about 30 guns pointed at Louis at this point. Louis honestly hadn't even looked, but at the babbling of the small girl about something that sounded like the word 'gun' Louis had looked over his shoulder to see at the feds with all the guns trained on him, looking down to see at least half of that amount of laser dots already on him. Harry noticed then how Louis' face changed. He looked really fucking angry. 

Louis had crouched down, next to the small girl, not seeming to mind the guns on him, but hiding the small, scared looking child behind him. He talked to her for a few seconds before the criminal turns around again and holds the door open a little more with his knee, before the small girl takes two wobbly steps out, her whole hand still grasping two of Louis' fingers, who remained behind the glass door. He wasn't stupid enough to step out from behind the thick, bullet proof glass door, knowing He'd definitely be shot. The small girl looks scared again, and Harry hears his own voice calling "Lower your guns!" to his team. 

Louis, from inside must hear that too because he glances over his shoulder, meeting eyes with Harry. Both men silently stare for a moment before Louis' arm wrap back around the child, pulling her inside again and whispering something, before pointing directly to Harry. With the guns lowered, and having been told the man with the cuey hair was Louis' friend, the small girl waddled out the door. she took a few steps before Louis locked the door again, before turning his back and walking away. He did glance back though to see Harry jogging up the stairs and scooping up the girl in his arms. 

The whole interaction probably lasted 20 seconds, if that,but it plays on repeat in Harry's head near every night. 

After that, Louis and the others had grabbed the bags of money left on the counters by the terrified bank tellers and headed out the back to their get away car. Harry did note that than ran. Normally, the group was so calm, never raising a sweat, a run, or their voices. Even they must know this was close one though. Sure enough, mere seconds later, a blue stolen Honda drives around the corner, so damn inconspicuous that all the agents and police don't even realise it's the get away car until they see the arses of the thieves all pressed to the Windows on the way past, much to the giggling girl in Harry's arms delight, who mumbles 'bumbum' while pointing to the car.

After the vehicles chasing the group all loose the car, Louis and his little gang get away for the damn seventh time now. Harry and his lot head back to the office, trying to figure out a plan to final get a step ahead of this group. It gets to 10 at night, and like always, he's the last one to leave the office. He's got a flask of whiskey he hides in his desk drawer about three quators finished and no new ideas. See, Harry was, still is actualy, what we called a high functioning alcoholic. He'd lucky to make it to lunch time before dipping into his flask.

About 10.37 is when Harry decides to head to the strip club he's heard so much about from a few friends in the council office. It is, after all, his birthday. Even if no one in the office, or even the damn city knew, it was his birthday. He got a call from his mum, sister, and a few texts from his 2 best mates who were back in his home town, but that's all. Granted, he made a point of not telling anyone his birth date to avoid the celebrations, but this, even he'll admit, was just sad. 

Harry drives to the old printer repair store, his eyes blurry from lack of sleep and excess alcohol. The sign of the door says closed, but sure enough, when Harry pushes it, it opens. Just like the major said it would. Harry stumbles a little as he made his way behind the counter, 4 quick knocks, 2 slow, before it was pulled open by a big, shirtless and tight under wear wearing man who looked like he was from Samoa or something. 

"Ah, fresh meat. I haven't seen you around here before" the big man, Harry would come to know to be Tony said.

"Yeah I was just um... I was.. uh...." He mumbles, trying to think of a lame ass excuse of why he was drunk in a male strip club at 11 pm on a tuesday. 

Tony on the other hand, just smiles and shakes his head a tad.

Harry really thinks he should just turn around and leave. He's just... no ones even put a hand on Harry in an affectionate way in longer than he cares to admit. Forget about kissing, let alone sex.

"Shhh baby, you don't need a reason" Tony says, offering a warm smile to Harry and a gentle hand on the back. 

Harry doesn't really know what to do or what to say around here. He find himself at the bar though, something that always happens, doing what ever it was that the shirtless bar tender, Gavin was giving him. After not too long, Gavin tells Harry he's not getting anymore drinks for the night, already far too drunk. Harry had admitted about 4 drinks ago that it was actually his birthday, and the bar tender took pity on the lonely man.

"I'll tell you what, sweetheart. Head to room two. Got a big '2' on the door, you can't miss it. Have yourself a good time, on me, yeah? Happy Birthday, mate" Gavin had said, patting Harry on the shoulder before heading over to serve one of the few other customers there. 

Harry was drunk at this point and vaguely aware he shouldn't be here. He was pretty sure this place didn't have any kind of permits, and anyone could bust in here and see him at any moment but really, he didn't care. It was his birthday. Keeping a hold of the wall with one hand to keep the stumbling to a minimum, Harry made his way down a dimly lit hall, finding that room 2 was actually the 6th door along to hall. Harry took a hiccuped breath, raising his knuckles and tapping three times against the door before hearing a 'come in' called from the other side. 

Harry did walk in, closing the door behind him. When he turns around, he can honest to god say the last thing he expects to see is Louis fucking Tomlinson sitting on a bed. Much less, Louis fucking Tomlinson shirtless on an old and used lookunh bed in a dive of a strip club. By the look on Louis' face, Harry can tell he wasn't expecting for the lead agent to stumble through the door either. After what seems like an eternity of both men just staring wide eyed at eachother, Harry quickly makes a move for his gun from his holster. The second Harry's hands move, Louis is up and scrambling for the door, needing to get out of the room before he hits shot in a goddamn illegal strip club. Of all the ways to go,he didn't think that would be his. 

Harry though, is drunk. The sudden movement of turning to get the gun throws the whole big man off balance. He falls backwards, against the door, just as Louis was about to open it and make his get away. In the process, Harry also drops his gun. After another 10 seconds or so of silence, both men seeing what the other was going to do, both make for the gun at the same time. Louis is first to grab it, darting over the drunken lump of Harry on the floor before Harry grabs the boy by his ankle and pulls him back towards him. Soon, they are in an out right wrestle for the gun, and Harry is pretty surprised it hasn't already gone off with being thrown around so much. He thinks it wouldn't  be such a bad thing if he did get shot.  No one even cares enough to say happy birthday.

With Harry distracted with all his self pity, Louis is able to get the gun, and ends up straddling the agent, cocking the gun and holding it to his chest. Harry looks up at the small man he had spent every day for half a year trying to catch, before letting out a sigh and just dropping his head down and letting the little thief win.   
"Just shoot me, I don't even care" Harry says, just closing his eyes and waiting for it. 

That really took Louis by surprise. This man, who was on the floor completely given up was the same man who had chased Louis. He was like the shadow Louis could not shake, the gum on his shoe, or like onion breath after lunch. No matter what Louis and his team did, Harry was always there. And now, he was just.... giving up?

Louis stayed silent for a few moments, really unsure of what to do. He thought initially this was a raid, if it was, where is the back up and why does Harry smell so much of whiskey? Harry's eyes slowly open again, looking up at the smaller man with just a blank expression, earning him a jab with the end of his gun.   
"What the fuck are you doing here?" Louis demands, doing his best to make his voice sound scaring and not like he's scared shitless. 

Harry stays quiet for a few second longer before he just kind a shrugs. "Its my birthday" the agent mumbles, sounding ashamed but at the same time, just... blank.

Louis was not expecting that. Every thing that happened since the knock on the door had been unexpected. Louis stares at the man for a while. To shoot someone in the chest while they were in this state was just unfair. And on their birthday was just well, rude, Louis thinks. He sighs once more,thinking he's about to do the dumbest thing he ever will, before putting the safety back on the gun. His small hands quickly move to the holster low on Harry's hips, and make quick work of getting it off. Harry even lifts his hips a little for Louis to pull the belt part out  from   under him.   
"How drunk are you?" Louis asks, furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at the agent underneath him. 

Harry just blinks a few times before mumbling "very" not even looking Louis in the eye. Louis honestly feels a bit bad for the agent. This man has been so powerful in every news interview and at every crime scene and now he's... he's done. 

"Look..." Louis says,standing and and putting Harry's gun back on the holster before putting the whole thing over the coat rack by the door of his room. "Neither of us is on the job right now so...Don't shoot me and I won't shoot you. Deal?" He says, reaching a hand down to Harry who was still laying on the ground, looking stunned and very very drunk. After some hesitation, Harry takes the hand, letting Louis pull him up.   
"There you go, big guy " Louis says, gesturing for him to sit down on the bed, which Harry does.   
"You can't... you can't tell anyone about this. I'll get fired and th.... you probably want me fired though, so just... I'll tell them myself I'll just go" Harry says, staring at his feet the whole time he talked before standing up and stumbling a bit as he tries to make to the door, picking up his car keys from where they were dropped on the floor.

"Hey hey" Louis says in a surprisingly comforting voice Harry hadn't expected. Suddenly Louis is in front of him, a small hand on his chest as he stops Harry from moving. Harry looks down at the shorter man, finally meeting his gaze. "You're not going anywhere, agent Styles, unless it's in a taxi." He says, his voice firm in a way that Harry kind of gets chills from.

"Wh..why do you ca..." 

"Who else is gonna chase me if you go kill yourself in a car wreck, hm? Everyone knows all the fun is in the vhase" Louis says, a little hint sass in his voice as he drops a hand from Harry's chest after giving it a little push, making the younger man stumble back to sit on the bed as Louis takes the boys car keys and puts them in his back pocket. 

"Are you stealing my car?" Harry asks, lazily reaching back for the keys but Louis just smiles some and takes a step back. He hums in amusement before saying "maybe your wallet too" as he goes to the sink, getting a cup of water and bringing it back to Harry. 

"Drink" Louis says, but Harry shakes his head.  
"I'm fine I'm not ev..."  
"Drink it Styles"  
"Why do you even car..."  
"Styles." Louis says, a little firmer this time, making the agents rambling seize. Louis being firm did a bit of a strange thing to Harry. The curly headed boy sighs and takes the glass from Louis, finishing most of the glass. He lowers it but Louis' fingers find the bottom of it, bringing the cup back up to Harry's lips until he finishes the last mouthful. 

"No more drinks tonight, yeah? You're a bit of a down buzz when you're drunk, it's depressing " Louis says, turning his back to Harry and walking back toward the sink. Harry was too drunk to stop himself from letting his eyes drift to Louis' arse, watching it say as he walked. Soon though,   Louis was back, standing in front of Harry who drunkenly reaches out and catches one of Louis' belt loops, pulling him a bit closer.   
"Cuddly drunk, are we Styles?" Louis says in amusement, but let's himself get pulled a bit closer, before stopping an arms length or so away from the agent. He was still cautious, still very uncertain of the very drunk agent.   
"What are you doing at a strip club?" Harry asks, dropping his hand from Louis, looking up at him from where he was slouched on the bed. He couldn't believe that after so long, Louis was right there.  
"I could ask you the same thing, love" Louis responded,raising an eyebrow.   
"You already did and I already told you" Harry says, shrugging his shoulders and leaning back on his elbows still looking up at Louis above him.   
"But whatever I say you'll use to analyse me and try catch me. You're already probably gonna have cops storming this place tomorrow" Louis says. His eyes quickly dart to the little bit of skin that was exposed when Harry's shirt untucked as he leant back. He was in a dress shirt and back jeans, and the tiny bit of belly Louis could see did look pretty inviting.   
Harry scoffs in response to Louis, shaking his head.   
"We'll be lucky if I remember this tomorrow, and even if I do, I'm hardly going to admit to my homophobic as fuck boss that I found you at an illegal gay strip club as a prostitute while I was drunk and then let you get away" Harry says, raising an eye brow at Louis.   
"I'm not a prostitute" Louis says, obviously offended as he takes a step back, that being the only thing he's taken from what Harry said. Harry opened his mouth a few times to come up with a witty response, but he had nothing.  
"Oh, sorry" is all he ends up saying, to which Louis sighs and seems to forgive. 

"You're going to let me get away though?" Louis asks, running his fingers through his hair.  
Harry shrugs a bit. "I'm not going to try stop you." Harry said, sitting back up properly again and looking up at Louis.   
Louis nods a little bit, still obviously and wisely cautious.   
After a while of more silence, Louis speaks up again. "That little girl from today... thanks for getting them to put their guns down" he says to which Harry immediatly scoffs and says "that wasn't for you."   
Louis shakes his head a bit. "I knew you would come get her though. So yeah... thanks" he says, and Harry just nods.

After a minute or two of more silence, Harry stands up again. "I better be on my way" he mumbles awkwardly, biting his lip, patting his pockets for his keys before remembering Louis had them. 

"I'll get them back to you " Louis says, and Harry didn't really believe him but also didn't really care. He could do with a new car anyway. He just nods and makes his way to the door, opening it and taking a step out.

"Agent Styles" Louis calls,making the taller man turn around and look back, only for Louis to toss him his holster, holding his gun. "Come back another time when you're not so drunk" he says with a wink. Harry opens and closed his mouth a few times, unsure what to say. Eventually,he just gives a nod before walking out of the dirty little strip club and calling himself a cab.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3.

When Harry had walked into the old, run down strip club today, his eyes met with Louis, who was wearing his classic cheesy smirk on his face.   
“You’re such a cheeky bastard” Harry says, shaking his head as he walks to Louis, a little smile on his lips though as the slightly older man opens his arms up for a hug.   
“You weren’t far off that time love”  
“You pulled the finger at me” Harry says with a playful pout. Louis just responds by leaning down and pressing a kiss to Harry’s bottom lip, sucking it in for a second before dropping it. He hand’s drop to Harry’s waist, and he tugs a little bit at the gun holster that still hung there.   
“You know the rules, get it off” Louis says, taking a step away. Something about Harry having a gun on him made the thief very uncomfortable, and he could never really relax until it was gone. At the end of the day, Harry was still spending every day trying to catch Louis, and that did make it a bit hard to trust one another. Harry’s hands were quick to move to the belt buckle, removing it quickly and hanging it up on the coat rack by the door, making sure the safety on the gun was on before he walks over to the bed and stands between Louis’ legs.   
The older man smiles up at Harry, his hands coming around to slowly run the length of Harry’s body, massaging some of the tense muscles. In his heart, he knew Louis still did this every time as a way to check for wires or concealed weapons. Harry had never bought either here, and never would, but he understood why Louis’ checked. One day, Harry knew he was probably going to have to arrest this man. They could never really trust each other.   
As Louis’ hands move down lower, he feels a hard metal object in Harry’s back pocket. Raising an eyebrow at the boy, Louis’ pulls out the flask.   
“I thought you were stopping?” Louis says quietly, looking up at Harry with a face that looked almost disappointed. Harry had to remind himself it wasn’t though, because Louis didn’t really care. Neither did Harry. Obviously. Louis was one of the only people that knew of Harry’s alcohol problems. It was hard not to, when every time the saw eachother, Harry tasted of whiskey.  
“I am, I was just taking that one home from the office” Harry mumbles with a shrug, as Louis screws open the lid and smells it.   
“Sure. It’s half empty and I can smell it on you” Louis say with a sigh, shaking his head. Again, anyone else might think Louis actually cared.   
Harry didn’t really have much to say to that, but accepted the flask back when Louis handed it to him, taking a swig as he sat next to the small boy on the bed. Louis crawled behind the agent, massaging his shoulders, able to feel how tense he was.   
“You drive me to this, you know?” Harry says quietly, leaning back into Louis’ touch a little bit as he takes another swig from the bottle.   
Louis scoffs, shaking his head. “I don’t see any of the other agents stumbling into crime scene, love” he says matter of factly. There had been more than once that Louis had seen that exact thing. One time in fact, the closet they’d come to getting caught yet, Harry could have easily chased Louis’ down, had he not been drunk. The agent had cornered him in an ally, only for the younger boy to fall over his own damn feet. Harry had reached for his gun at first, thinking Louis was going to hurt him. They had a strict agreement that when they were both “working” it was game on. As far as they were concerned, they were enemies. Of course, the longer this little thing went on between them, the harder that agreement was getting to maintain. At the time, however, Louis knew Harry was the only agent that had followed him, or at least had a decent head start on the others. The thief quickly darted over and hauled up Harry, picking up his gun and pressing it to his chest so hard Harry actually stumbled backwards a bit. Anyone would have thought Louis was actually mad that Harry was drunk. Harry knew better. “Get your shit together, Harry. Fucks sake.” He had harshly whispered, shaking his head at the younger boy in anger before he jumped the fence and ran off before the other agents had arrived.   
“Harry” the agent hears, snapping him back into reality with the form tone in Louis voice. “You zoned out on me” Louis says, brushing back his hair a bit.  
“Oh sorry” he says with a little shrug, tilting his head back to lean against Louis’ chest, looking up at his lover. He’s not sure how it happened, but that was the title that Louis had earned. Louis smiles, a genuine looking one and presses a kiss to Harry’s forehead.   
“You’ve had enough of this for now” Louis says, taking the flask from Harry’s larger hands, with only minimal protest from Harry, who was easily distracted by a few kisses to his neck.  
“You’ll get it back later” Louis said, reminding Harry of the first time they had met.  
The first time that Louis and Harry had met, he was certain that Louis had stolen his car. He’d woken up the next morning, a pounding head ache and so much regret about what he had done last night. He could have been worse though. He could have actually slept with Louis Tomlinson. In his mind as he got ready for work, there were only two options:  
1) Louis telling his boss that Harry was at the strip club and didn’t even try arrest him and Harry was getting fired  
2) Harry’s car was going to be the getaway vehicle next time the group robbed a bank and he was going to have to explain how the group got his car and then get fired  
Really, either way, the lead agent was fucked. Harry get dressed for work, wearing his usual dark jeans with rips at the knees and a button up top, with a blazer over the top. He does his hair quickly, grabs a coffee with some Irish cream in it before calling a cab to get him to work. Harry hated this little cycle he was in. Wake up, alone. Go to work. Spend the whole day doing office jobs he hated, only occasionally ever getting a call out. Go home, alone. Get drunk, alone. Repeat. He really didn’t think he could make it much longer.   
When the cab pulled up outside the bureau, Harry was astonished to see his car parked towards the back of the lot. He pays the driver before walking over, looking around in case for some reason, Tomlinson was still around. After all, that’s the only way the car could have got here. Harry tries the door, only to find it’s locked. After looking around for where Louis could have possibly put the keys, he catches sight of them. On the driver seat. Inside his locked car.   
“That little fucker…” Harry groans, running his hands through his hair before he made his way inside so he’s not late for work.   
That evening, Harry used one of the lock picking kits on his own car, getting inside eventually. He starts up the car, only to find that Louis has obviously fucked with the wiring so every time Harry touches the brake pedal, the horn goes off. After popping the hood, it takes Harry about half an hour and three youtube tutorials before he’s finally got his car back to the way it is meant to be. Just in perfect time to be stuck in rush hour traffic the whole fucking way home.  
The sun was directly in his eyes as Harry drove home, creeping through the traffic. As he pulls down the visor, he’s surprised when a folded piece of paper falls on his lap. Keeping his eyes on the road and only glancing down, Harry reads the messy had writing.   
It’s a number followed by ‘Do me a favour and text nest time one of those pesky bank alarms goes off? L x’  
Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes and throwing the paper into the passenger’s seat. The last thing he was going to do was text Louis Tomlinson.  
It wasn’t until 9.30 that night after a few drinks that Harry was back in his car, finding the piece of paper with Louis’ number on it and sending him a text.

H: I’m gonna use this phone number to track you  
L: Styles, I’m guessing? No need love, you know where to find me, every Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday x  
H: You fucked up my car  
L: You gave your car keys to Britain’s most wanted sweetheart, you’re lucky that’s all I did with it.  
H: fuck you  
L: Drop by Thursday and we’ll see ;)

Harry dropped his phone on the couch and shock his head. He was kind of amused by the boy. He honestly hadn’t had anyone talk to him in that way in year, and he kind of liked it.   
He had a bad bad feeling that wasn’t the last he’d hear from Louis Tomlinson.


End file.
